Philippa Kaur

TWO DECADES ago India’s information-technology (IT) firms were the stars of the rising country’s corporate firmament. The industry’s three giants, Tata Consultancy Services (TCS), Infosys and Wipro, became household names at home and familiar to chief executives of big businesses abroad, who had outsourced their companies’ countermeasures against the feared “millennium bug”, expected to wreak havoc on computers as the date changed from 1999 to 2000, to Indian software engineers. By the mid-2000s the Indian IT trio’s revenues were growing by around 40% a year, as Western CEOs realised that Indian programmers could do as good a job as domestic ones or better, at a fraction of the price. Then, following the global financial crisis of 2007-09, revenue growth slowed to single digits. For years afterwards the stars seemed to be losing some of their shine.Now they are back in the ascendant. Having declined as a share of GDP between 2017 and 2019, exports of Indian software services ticked up again as the world’s companies turned to them for help amid the disruption to operations and IT systems wrought by the pandemic. In the last financial year they reached an all-time high of $150bn, or 5.6% of Indian GDP (see chart 1). NASSCOM, a trade body, expects the industry’s overall revenues to grow from $227bn last year to $350bn by 2026.In the 12 months to March sales at TCS, Infosys and Wipro are once again forecast to grow by double digits (see chart 2)—this time from a much higher base than 20 years ago. All told, they could rake in nearly $60bn next year, up from just over $40bn in 2019 (see chart 3). In the past two years they have added an astonishing 200,000 or so people to their combined workforce, which now numbers nearly 1.1m. Add the Indian businesses of big Western IT-services firms such Cognizant (which is based in New Jersey but India-focused), IBM and Capgemini, as well as smaller Indian rivals and around 1,600 “captives”, as in-house Indian operations of foreign firms are known, and the headcount rises to 5m.More important, both revenues and ranks of Indian IT look poised to keep growing briskly. Lalit Ahuja, who runs a firm that helps to set up captives, says a new one opens every other week. TCS, the industry’s brightest star, reckons that its sales will rise from nearly $30bn today to $50bn before 2030. It is eyeing 1m employees. Infosys and Wipro have comparable ambitions. And investors are buying it. The market value of the big three has doubled to $330bn since covid-19 first emerged. With the addition Cognizant and Tech Mahindra, another Indian firm, the figure is around $400bn (see chart 4). This represents a huge bet on the future of white-collar jobs.Three global forces lie behind Indian IT’s sparkling outlook. All manner of businesses are digitising ever more of their operations. They are moving more activities to the computing cloud. And work is becoming more remote. India’s low-cost, competent coders can help with all three.Start with digitisation. The pandemic has turbocharged efforts by companies of all stripes to make their businesses more agile, efficient and clever. Retailers have introduced kerbside pickup. Clinics have launched digital doctor’s appointments. Schools have run online classes. Factories have been kitted out with sensors to allow remote monitoring in the absence of workers, locked down at home. Data from covid-19 vaccine trials have needed analysing. All these innovations required sophisticated software. A lot if it has been developed in India since early 2020. And there is more to come. Among Infosys’s many projects are several connected to electric cars (for example software for the vehicles themselves and for petrol stations to offer charging). It is helping a Western retailer expand into health care and financial services.The corporate great migration to the cloud offers further opportunities. According to Anuj Kadyan of McKinsey, a consultancy, big ones include supervising the migration itself for clients, ensuring that the new cloud operations are cyber-secure and adding advanced cloud-based data analytics and artificial intelligence (AI) on top. Earlier this year JPMorgan Chase, an American bank, announced it would add 6,000 people to its substantial Indian business to work on the cloud, cyber-security and AI. IBM has opened a cyber-security centre in India to cater to its Asian clients.Combined, digitisation and the cloud make it possible for companies to untether from their physical headquarters not just peripheral functions but parts of their ever more digital core business. Many have done just that during the pandemic, thanks to remote work. This opens up the third opportunity for India’s IT consultants. They could assume some of the core corporate roles from white-collar workers in the rich world. Wages for new hires in India can be as little as $5,000 annually, less than a tenth of the going rate in rich countries. Even with associated cost, Indian projects cost at least 20% less than the same endeavours in the West, estimates Peter Bendor-Samuel, boss of the Everest Group, a management consultancy.A ballooning Indian “talent cloud”, as TCS calls it, is the biggest opportunity of all. It is also the most uncertain. For one thing, some Western companies are having second thoughts about hybrid work (which requires at least partial presence in the office), let alone the fully remote sort. Indian wages are also beginning to rise. India’s IT giants and captives are competing for the best and brightest among themselves, as well as with a vibrant startup scene. McKinsey estimates that compensation costs have risen by 20-30% over the past year. Company executives say it is not uncommon for employees to ask for their wages to be doubled. Attrition at the big firms has spiked.As the nature of outsourced work changes, the Indian advantage may erode further. It is easier for clients to outsource standardised assignments on the periphery of corporate functions to faraway India. It is harder to do so for high-value projects at the heart of their business, which require constant communication, continuity and confidentiality. For these reasons, proximity matters. At the very least, it means being in the same time zone as your client. Infosys and TCS now operate in more than 40 countries. Infosys now has more than 30 outposts across America and is building a new $245m campus in Indianapolis. Mr Kumar’s own job has relocated from Bengaluru to New York. Infosys plans to add 10,000 American workers in the next few years, bringing the total to 35,000. “We needed capacity closer to the customers,” explains Ravi Kumar, who oversees Infosys’s global services business.Still, India accounts for the bulk of its IT firms’ workforce. Although the companies are cagey about where their employees are based, securities filings by Infosys and Cognizant show that, give or take, three-quarters of staff are based in India. If India’s entire IT industry grew at the same rate as TCS, more or less doubling its workforce this decade, that could mean nearly 5m new Indian white-collar jobs—and potentially 5m fewer in the West.This points to a final hurdle. Amid supply-chain disruptions from the pandemic, now compounded by Russia’s war in Ukraine, and a geostrategic contest with China, Western politicians are in a protectionist mood. Few would relish millions of well-paid positions moving to India on their watch. Critical visas that once allowed the Indian firms to send star employees aboard to work directly with clients have already grown harder to come by, forcing these positions to be filled locally. Although data can in theory be stored and analysed anywhere, governments are increasingly keen to limit cross-border information flows, often invoking national security. By building a few more campuses in Western countries India’s IT titans may alleviate some of those concerns. They are unlikely to make them disappear. For more expert analysis of the biggest stories in economics, business and markets, sign up to Money Talks, our weekly newsletter. More

“SNATCH GROCERIES first, then get a covid test” has quickly become an anthem for the lockdown that started suddenly in Shanghai in the early hours of March 28th. Local hip-hop artists CATI2, P.J. and Keyso describe scenes of panic buying—qiang cai, or snatching groceries—and the threat of being locked out of one’s home amid a frenzied bid to control an outbreak of covid-19 in China’s main business and finance hub. One lyric hints that residents can grow vegetables in the small patches of land outside their apartments or scavenge for edible plants.The song has attracted hundreds of thousands of views online in less than a day, bringing some cheer to an otherwise grim situation. China is currently facing its worst outbreak since the pandemic started in the city of Wuhan in 2020. Thousands of new cases of the highly transmissible Omicron variant are now being discovered each day. The large cities of Shenzhen and Shenyang, as well as the entire province of Jilin, have been locked down in recent weeks.On March 28th it was Shanghai’s turn. The two-phase lockdown of the city, whose 26m inhabitants have been mostly spared harsh containment efforts over the past two years, was announced only hours before it began at 5am that morning. The local government had gone to great lengths to avoid shutting down the metropolis, especially its wealthy central districts. Now that these are under quarantine, it will find it difficult to present an image of business as usual—chiefly because business is anything but.The lockdown’s first phase covers areas east of Huangpu river, home to the main financial centre (and the city’s iconic skyline). Many white-collar workers have packed up toiletry bags and moved into their offices until April 1st, when the lockdown is supposed to be lifted in the east and imposed instead in western neighbourhoods. In order to keep the stock exchange running, employees are said to be sleeping on the floor of the bourse. Countless companies listed in Shanghai have put out statements in recent days to notify investors that they are shutting down their factories in the region and, in some cases, elsewhere in the country. Tesla is suspending production at its electric-car factory in the city, according to Reuters.The pain will be felt abroad, too, just as it was amid the lockdowns in Shenzhen, another city deeply entangled in global supply chains. Although seaborne traffic can be diverted from Shanghai to other ports, such as Ningbo around 100km to the south, the cross-border flow of people is being disrupted. International flights have been rerouted to airports in other cities. Shanghai’s tourism businesses are bracing for a year that will be even worse than 2020.The situation will further dent business sentiment already knocked by smaller-scale rolling lockdowns, laments a foreign fund manager, who has been stuck home for weeks. China’s purchasing managers’ index for emerging industries, such as green technology and biotech, recorded a sharp drop in March, compared with February. It was the worst reading since the index was launched in 2014.Regardless of its precise economic cost, which will only become apparent with time, the Shanghai lockdown is the biggest test yet of China’s draconian “zero-covid” approach to snuffing out the virus. Admittedly, Chinese authorities have shown an ability to learn and adapt to the virus. Shanghainese officials are borrowing from their counterparts in Shenzhen and experimenting with “production bubbles”, which involve busing workers to and from factories in a covid-controlled manner. Some big companies, including Foxconn, a giant contract manufacturer that assembles iPhones for Apple, have pulled this off. If such ruses work, China may be able to cling to its zero-covid approach for longer. If they fail—as they well might given Omicron’s extraordinary transmissibility—the authorities will come under growing pressure to relent. For more expert analysis of the biggest stories in economics, business and markets, sign up to Money Talks, our weekly newsletter. More

THE MARKET for packaged foods is a competitive one, where price rises by one firm risk pushing shoppers into the arms of rivals. Companies in the industry deal with soaring costs by hedging against spikes in commodity markets using forward contracts, reformulating products so they contain less of the pricier foodstuffs or, failing that, surreptitiously making packages a bit smaller while keeping the ticket price the same.Listen to this story. Enjoy more audio and podcasts on More

THE MARKET for packaged foods is a competitive one, where price rises by one firm risk pushing shoppers into the arms of rivals. Companies in the industry deal with soaring costs by hedging against spikes in commodity markets using forward contracts, reformulating products so they contain less of the pricier foodstuffs or, failing that, surreptitiously making packages a bit smaller while keeping the ticket price the same.Amid pandemic-related supply-chain bottlenecks, labour shortages and crop failures, food firms have repeatedly done all that. Even so, they have had to raise prices, often less judiciously than is ideal (see previous article). The invasion of Ukraine, known as Europe’s breadbasket thanks to its rich soil, by Russia, the world’s top exporter of wheat, is forcing their hand once again. Together the two countries account for 29% of international wheat sales and nearly 80% of sales of sunflower oil. Disruptions to those critical supplies are pushing up food companies’ costs just as energy costs are also sky-high as a result of the war.It will be harder for European food companies to pass price rises to consumers than for American firms. Supermarkets in Europe are more concentrated than in America, and drive a harder bargain with suppliers. Walmart, America’s biggest, controls 17% of the domestic market. Its British and German opposite numbers, Tesco and Edeka, respectively, have nearly 30% of theirs. Moreover, cost-conscious Europeans shop more at discounters such as Aldi or Lidl. They are also less fussy than Americans about branded products and buy more of the retailers’ own labels.On March 23rd General Mills, the American maker of Cheerios and Wheaties, among other sugary fare, reported healthy margins and quarterly sales that were higher than in the same period in 2019, before the pandemic (though flat compared with last year). The firm insisted that demand for packaged food should remain strong all year as many people continue to work from home at least some of the time. Robust appetite for its products will, the firm says, allow it to raise prices to offset the rising costs of commodities.That may be optimistic. Shoppers’ patience with inflation is wearing thin on both sides of the Atlantic. Investors expect margins to narrow. The share prices of big American, European and Chinese food firms alike took a knock after Russian tanks rolled onto Ukrainian fields on February 24th (see chart). ■For more expert analysis of the biggest stories in economics, business and markets, sign up to Money Talks, our weekly newsletter.This article appeared in the Business section of the print edition under the headline “Food fight” More

FEW AMERICAN business tactics are as peculiar in a freewheeling capitalist society as the manufacturer’s suggested retail price. P.H. Hanes, founder of the textile mill that would eventually become HanesBrands, came up with it in the 1920s. That allowed him to use adverts in publications across America to deter distributors from gouging buyers of his knitted under garments. Even today many American shopkeepers hew to manufacturers’ recommended prices, as much as they would love to raise them to offset the inflationary pressures on their other costs. A growing number, though, resort to more sophisticated pricing techniques.A seminal study from 2010 by McKinsey, a consultancy, estimated that raising prices by 1% without losing sales can boost operating profits by 8.7%, on average. Getting this right can be tricky. Set prices too high and you risk losing customers; set them too low and you leave money on the table. Retailers have historically used rules of thumb, such as adding a fixed margin on top of costs or matching what competitors charge. As energy, labour and other inputs go through the roof, they can no longer afford to treat pricing as an afterthought.To gain an edge, shopkeepers have been turning to price-optimisation systems. These predict how customers will respond to different pricing scenarios, and recommend those that maximise sales or profits. At their core are mathematical models that use oodles of transaction data to estimate price elasticities—how much demand increases as the price falls and vice versa—for thousands of products. Price-sensitive items can then be discounted and price-insensitive ones marked up. Merchants can fine-tune the algorithms to prevent undesirable outcomes, such as double-digit price surges or larger packages costing more by unit of weight than smaller ones.These systems are becoming cleverer thanks to advances in artificial intelligence (AI). Whereas older models used historical sales data to estimate price elasticities for individual items, the latest crop of AI-powered ones can spot patterns and relationships between multiple items. Makers of pricing software are incorporating new data sources into their models, from customers’ tweets to online product reviews, says Doug Fuehne of Pricefx, one such firm. The cloud-based platform developed by Eversight, another provider, allows retailers to test how slight increases or decreases in the price of, say, Heinz ketchup at different stores affect sales not just of that specific condiment but across the category. It is used by big manufacturers such as Coca-Cola and Johnson & Johnson, as well as some supermarkets (Raley’s) and clothes-sellers (JCPenney).All this makes pricing systems “much more three-dimensional”, observes Chad Yoes, a former executive at Walmart who oversaw pricing at the retail behemoth. Retail bosses are keen to promote this sophistication to investors, who value firms’ pricing power at a time of high inflation. In February Starbucks, a chain of coffee shops, boasted about its use of analytics and AI to model pricing “on an ongoing basis”. US Foods, a food distributor, has touted its pricing system’s ability to use “over a dozen different inputs” to boost sales and profits.Price-optimisation may make prices more volatile. “Retailers are pricing faster today than they ever have before,” says Matt Pavich of Revionics, another pricing-software firm. That is especially true in the fast-moving world of e-commerce. But even Walmart reviews the prices of many items in its stores 2-4 times a year, says Mr Yoes, up from once or twice a few years ago.What pricing systems do not do is lead inexorably to higher prices. Mr Pavich calls this misconception “one of the biggest myths” about products like his. Sysco, a big food distributor which rolled out new pricing software last year, is a case in point. The firm says the system allows it to lower prices on “key value items”—as price-sensitive bestsellers are known in the trade—and raise them on other products. It can thus increase profits by expanding sales while maintaining margins. That keeps investors content and shoppers sweet. ■For more expert analysis of the biggest stories in economics, business and markets, sign up to Money Talks, our weekly newsletter.This article appeared in the Business section of the print edition under the headline “Artificial prices” More

WHEN HARRY told me that he was leaving the company, one of the first things he said to me was that he didn’t like sentimental goodbyes. I have decided to take him at his word. Everything you will hear me say tonight is unvarnished and to the point, just like the man himself.Harry has been in the finance department for seven years. In that time he has not done anything remotely funny. I asked several people if they had anecdotes about him, and the best they could come up with is that he once accidentally changed a formula in the annual budget spreadsheet. Since the mistake was quickly spotted and fixed, it had no impact at all. I asked Charlotte, who has worked with you closely for three years, if she had anything to share. She was silent for what seemed like hours, and then said that she thinks you like walnuts. (Ah, I see you shaking your head, so that is neither funny nor true.)No matter. We do not hire people because they have an amusing habit of getting stuck in lifts (yes, Brian, I do mean you) or promote them because they can recite pi as a party trick. It is true that a mediocre colleague who happens to have some eccentric habits (and yes, Brian, I still mean you) would have produced a much more enjoyable leaving event than this painfully stilted affair. But that should not obscure more important things. Harry has been a diligent, competent and well-liked employee. He has been a good manager. Every job he has done for us he has done well.Not so well that he is indispensable, of course. We did offer him a raise when we found out he was planning to leave, but we opted against throwing in a sabbatical. In the end we recognised that he wanted to go and decided that we would cope just fine. There is no shame in that. Everyone is dispensable; it’s just a question of how quickly people come to that realisation. In Harry’s case, it was neither all that slow nor embarrassingly fast.Since then, we have all been waiting for him actually to leave. Once it is known that a person is moving on from their role, everyone immediately prices it in. People with ambition start writing memos about what they would do if they had that job. Rebecca’s pitch arrived the day after we announced your departure. I can see now that you didn’t know that, and that she didn’t expect me to mention it.Meetings quickly start to disappear from calendars. Decisions are deferred or simply taken elsewhere. It’s like the period between an election and an inauguration: there is someone in office but no one in power. By the time we get to this point, holding a glass of Prosecco and staring at you as if you are an endangered species, it’s something of a surprise to find that you still exist.Will Harry be forgotten? Not at all, though for reasons that he may not fully grasp. This is an evening in which the person who is leaving receives presents (as well as a card from people whose names you don’t recognise but who just loved working with you). But the exchange goes both ways. The leavers have a parting gift of their own to bestow: a convenient scapegoat.When someone dies, the convention is not to speak ill of the departed. When an employee exits a company, it’s the opposite. Things that don’t work as well as they should can be laid at the door of someone who won’t answer back. Frustrations that have been suppressed can finally be blamed on someone. When we speak of you, we will say things like “Harry had many strengths but…”, and we will persuade ourselves that you held us back a bit. This will not be true, but it will be convenient. I’d like to take this opportunity to tell you that we are grateful for this final act of service, which can last for as long as a year after someone has actually left the building.After that, memories tend to fade. I wish I could promise you that you are part of company folklore, or that your role in banning plastic straws from the office will reverberate through the ages. Instead, the only guarantee I can give is that no one here will ever read your exit-interview notes.This may all seem a little sad. You have spent many years at the company, and yet will probably leave comparatively little trace. But you should still feel pride in your time here. To have done your work well and to leave at a time of your choosing are achievements that are beyond most people (and on both scores, Brian, I am still thinking of you). So please raise your glasses to Harry. He has been an excellent colleague and won’t really be missed.For more expert analysis of the biggest stories in economics, business and markets, sign up to Money Talks, our weekly newsletter.This article appeared in the Business section of the print edition under the headline “The toast with the most” More

COSMETIC PROCEDURES used to be the preserve of middle-aged women and often involved surgery. Today they are increasingly sought by girls who want the photoshopped faces of their favourite social-media influencer, and by a growing number of men wishing for fewer wrinkles, fuller lips and sharper jawlines. Globally, more than 14m nonsurgical procedures were conducted in 2020, even amid the pandemic, up from fewer than 13m two years earlier. Increasingly, scalpels are giving way to syringes.Research and Markets, a firm of analysts, reckons that the global sales of non-invasive aesthetic treatments, currently around $60bn, could more than triple by 2030. A large part of that growth will come from injectables. These include Botox and other substances that freeze facial muscles, as well as dermal fillers which plump softer tissue. Demand has been fuelled by the proliferation of selfies and, during the pandemic, high-resolution video-calls. Snapchat and Instagram filters give users a glimpse of what they could look like with a filler-generated “liquid facelift”. The contrast with what they see on unadorned Zoom can be stark.In America 2.4m injectable procedures were carried out in covid-hit 2020, roughly one for every 100 American adults. About 700,000 such treatments were performed on Germans, not renowned for an obsession with looks. Brazilians, who are famously beauty-obsessed but much poorer, subjected themselves to around 500,000. Demand for “prejuvenation” work is especially strong in Asia, where younger patients (for, despite the convenience these are still medical procedures) want to pre-empt a craggy visage before any lines actually appear. Since injectables have to be topped up every few months, they guarantee producers of the substances and clinics that administer them a source of recurring revenue. The younger the customer starts, the better for business.According to a report by McKinsey, a consultancy, over 400 aesthetics clinics, which administer injectable treatments (among others including things like laser fat removal) raised more than $3bn from investors over the past five years. In 2020 AbbVie, an American pharmaceutical firm paid an eye-popping $63bn for Allergan, which has controlled nearly half the market for injectables since it launched Botox for aesthetic use two decades ago and Juvederm, a dermal filler, a few years later.New products are beginning to threaten Allergan’s dominance. Hugel, a South Korean company, now has a rival offering that is half the price of Botox. It is eyeing the Chinese market, where the stuff is still less common than dermal fillers. Ipsen, a French drugmaker, and Merz Pharma, a German one, also make Botox-style injectables. Ipsen’s Dysport has done well in Turkey and Russia. Merz’s sales are growing briskly in the emerging economies of Asia and Latin America.Some modern dermal fillers, meanwhile, are formulated with ingredients such as hyaluronic acid that are typically found in mild skincare products. That is less offputting to potential customers than Botox, which is derived from a toxin that occurs naturally in spoilt sausages. Other new treatments are dispensing with foreign substances entirely—though this doesn’t always seem all that more appealing. Certain cosmetic clinics offer to inject stem cells from a patient’s own fat into their face, or platelets from their blood to rejuvenate the skin.There is a wrinkle. The injectables craze, especially among youngsters, worries regulators. Botox is a prescription drug in most places but many dermal fillers are not. “Treatments are often trivialised on social media and people don’t understand the full ramifications of what can go wrong,” says Tijion Esho, a cosmetic surgeon in Britain. Misplaced injections can lead to abscesses or, in some cases, necrosis. An outcry from doctors and victims of botched procedures forced the British government to announce in February that it would require a licence for people administering nonsurgical treatments. England has already banned them for under-18s. ■For more expert analysis of the biggest stories in economics, business and markets, sign up to Money Talks, our weekly newsletter.This article appeared in the Business section of the print edition under the headline “Botox smiles” More

SPEAK TO THE bankers and industrialists at the top of India’s economic pyramid and you hear a common refrain. All Indians, they contend, are at heart socialists—themselves included. The popularity of the Indian version of “Shark Tank”, a TV celebration of capitalism (similar to “Dragons’ Den” in Britain) in which ordinary people seek funding for their business ideas from a gaggle of successful entrepreneurs, suggests that this conventional view may be out of date. The show’s 36-episode run, wrote the Hindustan Times, shifted the topic of dinner conversations throughout the vast country from cricket to business plans. Terms like “gross profit” and “TAM” (total addressable market) have entered common parlance among its 1.4bn people.Shows with star judges awarding talent (and panning its absence) have long had a place on Indian television. But they have historically involved song and dance, not spreadsheets. Sony Entertainment received 85,000 applications for “Shark Tank”. These were whittled down to 198 pitches presented to juries of five judges, themselves chosen to reflect India’s new business elite (rather than being scions of industrial conglomerates they had founded firms peddling everything from cosmetics and drugs to a matchmaking app and electronic payments).The enterprising hopefuls’ televised presentations were heavier on enthusiasm than polish. Rather than being a liability, this resonated with viewers who, as many blogs and social-media posts attested, saw themselves in the contestants. For “Shark Tank” was, in its effervescent diversity, not unlike Indian society. Of the 67 startups that secured some money from the judges, three-fifths were run by first-time entrepreneurs. More than two-fifths had female co-founders and a third were co-founded by someone from a small city rather than a business hub like Bangalore, Delhi or Mumbai. Only nine of the winning businesses had a founder who boasted a degree from the prestigious engineering and business schools that are the traditional pathway into India’s economic aristocracy.Some of the winning pitches seemed humdrum (banana crisps). Others were ingenious (an engineer whose family had been devastated by the abrupt death of their cow developed an electronic ear clip to monitor bovine health). Some were both (a bicycle-mounted pesticide sprayer). Even some losing proposals won recognition. Reversible dresses (good for a day in the office and a night on the town) were dismissed by one of the judges as suitable for a mop; his wife subsequently appeared wearing one on TV.“Shark Tank” may have struck a chord because it came at a time when Indians as a whole were becoming more enterprising. Indian entrepreneurs have registered over 310,000 new businesses in the past two years, up from 250,000 or so in the previous two (see chart). The ranks of retail stockpickers doubled between March 2019 and November 2021, to 77m. Some of this happened out of necessity: the pandemic up-ended lives and led millions to seek new opportunities. But some was probably by choice. The number of candidates sitting India’s exacting civil-service exam appears to have peaked in 2016. Some eggheads who would once have become bureaucrats may have opted to become capitalists instead. ■For more expert analysis of the biggest stories in economics, business and markets, sign up to Money Talks, our weekly newsletter.This article appeared in the Business section of the print edition under the headline “Shark attack” More